


Someone Better To Love

by Ratheralark



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, M/M, Pining, Weddings, all that good stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-14 13:25:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7173674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ratheralark/pseuds/Ratheralark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Any announcements for the good of the order?” Enjolras had said at the end of the following group meeting.<br/>Jehan Prouvaire was quick to answer. “Grantaire has one.” They shot their best friend a shit-eating grin, aware of the fact that they were specifically told not to make a big deal out of it when Grantaire told them the news.<br/>“Oh. Yeah. I’m getting married.” </p>
<p>Or, in which Grantaire is getting married and Enjolras isn't too happy about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Someone Better To Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vivalataire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivalataire/gifts).



She was a nice girl—she really was, and Grantaire knew that—but he also knew that he didn’t love her. His bride-to-be understood this, she was actually the one who devised the whole scheme.  
The two had met each other only a few months before the engagement and instantly became close; not as close as Grantaire was with Jehan or Éponine, but close enough that he felt comfortable disclosing many of his most private secrets to her after having a bit too much to drink. On one of these occasions, she made the mistake of asking how his day was going. This led to a four and a half hour long rant about how he hadn’t had a meal that day since he spent the little income he got from working the paint counter at the hardware store earlier that week on art supplies for a project which he ended up throwing out anyway because it just wouldn’t come out the way he wanted it to look and maybe that was because of his crippling self-doubt that was instilled in him at a young age by his father who hated him for some reason which was probably because he wanted to be an artist instead of a doctor or because he was pansexual or for some other reason because there was something about him that made everyone, particularly the guy he had been in love with for years now, hate him so much and because of this he had been starved for affection lately and no, he was not having a good day. This tirade may or may not have ended in a desperate, sloppy attempt at flirting and, consequently, her regretfully declining due to the fact that she was gay. In turn, she told him about how her affluent parents had been pressuring her to marry someone ever since she turned twenty five, but that she couldn’t because her parents would never approve of her marrying a woman. Yet, despite this, a marriage proposal was contrived.  
A few days later she approached Grantaire with the idea. She needed to get married, he needed the stability and benefits that would come with it. She was more than happy to make it an open relationship too, on the one condition that no one found out that their marriage was a sham. He had to admit it was a pretty good offer, though when it came to telling his friends, some of them thought differently.  
“Any announcements for the good of the order?” Enjolras had said at the end of the following group meeting.  
Jehan Prouvaire was quick to answer. “Grantaire has one.” They shot their best friend a shit-eating grin, aware of the fact that they were specifically told not to make a big deal out of it when Grantaire told them the news.  
“Oh. Yeah. I’m getting married.”  
“What?!?!?” Courfeyrac screeched. Grantaire thought he had heard Enjolras whisper the same thing to himself, but he couldn’t bring himself to look in his direction.  
“Yeah.”  
“Wait, I didn’t even know you were dating anyone,” said Bahorel.  
“Yeah,” Joly added, exchanging a questioning glance with his two counterparts. “Me neither.”  
“My baby’s getting married! And without me!! I won’t let someone take you away from me, R, I will crash your wedding and sweep you off your feet and carry you away into the sunset! I will disrupt your vows and marry you myself if I have to!!!”  
“Calm down, Courf.”  
“He’s obviously lying.” Grantaire recognized the voice without needing to turn to hear who said it.  
“It’s the truth. I’m engaged, and you’ll all be invited to the wedding when the time comes.”  
“But he already told me that I could be his best-non-binary-person-of-honor, so none of you better get your hopes up.” Jehan scooted over to the couch in the far corner of the Café Musain where Grantaire always sat and slung an arm around his shoulders, simultaneously sticking their tongue out at a very offended-looking Bahorel. Grantaire had texted both Éponine and Jehan to get their opinions before he said yes. Jehan replied first and earned themself the opportunity to stand at Grantaire’s side as he said “I do.” Éponine wasn’t too happy about that, but Grantaire told her he’d find a way to work her into the bridal party.  
“So, wait, who are you marrying then?” Bossuet asked.  
“You know that girl I’ve been hanging out with?” This was followed by a chorus of ‘oh’s, a few people stating that they thought the two of them were just friends, and an “ooo, she’s cute” from both Musichetta and Cosette. Éponine, being one of the only two people to know the true story behind the affianced couple’s engagement, just rolled her eyes.  
“Oh, come on, Grantaire.” The voice silenced the rest of the group’s discourse. “Be serious, you’re not actually getting married.”  
Grantaire finally turned to Enjolras, his snide glare perfectly painted on that exquisite face was a combination almost too much for him to bear. Just looking at him made him want to scream; but hearing his sharp words made him want to disappear. Grantaire never knew what it was that made him want to counter Enjolras so forcefully and so frequently. He was capable of understanding why he loved him—the man was an idol made to be worshipped—but Grantaire could never quite grasp why he wanted so badly to hate him. “Why do you think that? Is the idea that someone actually wants to marry me too implausible for you to fathom?”  
The marble face sunk. “You know that’s not what I meant—“  
“Well that’s sure as hell what it sounded like.”  
Enjolras held Grantaire’s gaze for an extended moment before saying softly, “meeting adjourned” and turning to get his things. As he left, Courfeyrac called after him, but he kept walking until he was outside of the café and around the corner. Jehan’s grasp tightened around Grantaire. There were a few seconds of complete silence before Éponine cleared her throat.  
“Hey, man, don’t listen to him,” Bahorel turned in his seat to face Grantaire. “I’m gonna throw you the sickest bachelor party you can imagine.”  
“Not without my help you won’t,” Courfeyrac added. “So, when’s the big day?”  
“We were thinking April, sometime when the weather gets nicer. Look, I—I’ve gotta go.” Grantaire stood and exited just as swiftly as the man before him had. When he stepped into the frigid winter air he realized that he had forgotten his coat inside, but kept going, assuming that someone would drop it by his place later on.  
Grantaire was right in assuming this, he just didn’t expect that someone to be Enjolras.  
It was one in the morning, but most of Grantaire’s friends knew that he usually stayed up even later than that. He was surprised that Enjolras knew, but then he figured that he was just being inconsiderate by visiting someone in the middle of the night. He must have gotten directions to his apartment too, since Grantaire had only remembered him coming there once with Courfeyrac to drop something off, and he wouldn’t have bothered remembering a place he would never want to go to again. Still, when he opened his door to see what appeared to be a blinding ray of light, he couldn’t stop his heart from skipping a beat.  
Grantaire hurried to back away from his romantically cliché other half before he let the smile reach his face. “What are you doing here?” It was only then that Grantaire noticed the pained look on Enjolras’s face. It appeared as if he had just experienced something emotionally traumatizing and was still trying to get over it. “Oh,” Grantaire studied him again and noticed how his normally porcelain skin had flushed to a deep red. “Are…are you okay?”  
Enjolras didn’t seem to pay attention to Grantaire’s last comment. “I came here to give this back. I was with Feuilly earlier and he had picked it up from the café and I said I could drop by and give it back.” Enjolras’s words sounded mechanical and rehearsed as he handed Grantaire his coat.  
“Uh, thanks—but, uh…”  
Enjolras was quiet as he stared down at his feet. Grantaire could tell he was seriously contemplating what to say next. “I also came to tell you that…” he paused again as he finally looked Grantaire in the eye. “I’m sorry for what happened earlier. I realize what I must have sounded like to you and…” he peered down again and grew quiet, his skin turning even redder as he began to visibly shake. “What I meant is that…I…what I meant is that I—“  
“Enjolras,” cutting him off, Grantaire put his hand on his shoulder and the man froze. “It’s okay. I mean, if it makes you feel any better, you were right. The marriage isn’t real.” He didn’t understand it, but he always felt he had to concede to Enjolras no matter what. Even still, Enjolras seemed to be in a different world that Grantaire couldn’t reach, regardless of what he said. “I don’t love her like that. We’re just doing it for the benefits.”  
“Grantaire, what I meant was that I don’t want you to get married because I—wait.” He stopped, looking up at him again. Grantaire always noticed how much his eyes shined, but now they shimmered even more with a veil of tears in front of them. He was barely recognizable like this.  
“Enjolras,”  
“Wait.” His tone shifted from apologetic to just confused. “You’re not getting married?”  
“Well, I am, just not for, like, love. It’s complicated. Like, her family wants her to get married but the thing is she’s gay and they’re really old-fashioned with their beliefs and all but they’re also pretty rich so I’d get those benefits by marrying her so—“  
“So you’re trying to tell me that—that you’re just getting married for—for the hell of it?” This was the Enjolras that Grantaire recognized. He could hear the bitterness flooding back into his voice and it made him nauseous. His ears began to pound as the words he heard became more heated and the red didn’t drain from Enjolras’s face. “Grantaire, how could you be so stupid!” It was a tidal wave; it was Poseidon’s fury hitting him all at once. “That is so unbelievably inconsiderate of you! You can’t get married just for that, it’s so dishonest! You’re just going to marry some girl just because of that? That’s completely unethical, Grantaire, that is just despicable and you are ruining marriage for the both of you. Jesus, R, that’s just not something you do. I can’t believe you would do something so selfish.”  
“No, Enjolras, that’s the thing, you could believe I would do something like that. That’s all you think I am, just some ignorant drunkard who only thinks about himself. Yep, that’s me!” He spat back at him, his rage finally outweighing his reverence. “I am incapable of doing anything. That’s it. I am incapable of loving.” Enjolras didn’t flinch. “This is probably news for you, your royal highness, since no one has ever dared to deny you what you want, but you can’t just tell me what to do with my life. I can marry whoever I want for whatever reason I want. Let me know when that message reaches you all the way up in your tower, until then, just stay away from me.”  
Grantaire hesitates just long enough to see the injured look return to the face of stone before slamming the door between them.

 

The marriage had to be believable, so the wedding did too. It was all just a big show, his fiancée even made him shave and rent a tuxedo. Grantaire started to regret accepting her proposal after realizing how much effort he had to put into it. He didn’t mind the cake tastings so much, but the rest of the wedding planning had been a lot harder than he thought, not to mention the fact that he had to be constantly on guard as to not to let his façade slip and ruin their whole secret. Aside from his bride, the only people Grantaire had told the truth to were his two best friends and Enjolras.  
Since their fight a few months before the wedding, Grantaire and Enjolras had barely spoken. They were only in the same room when absolutely necessary and Grantaire counted the amount of times they made eye contact; both times Grantaire had shifted his gaze almost instantly, but not before seeing that troubled look that never left his mind. He knew that Enjolras would never forgive him. Why should he? The two of them were just not meant to be paired together under any circumstances.  
Despite their friends’ antagonism, the rest of the group balanced their time between them well and helped Grantaire through his duties as the groom. And Bahorel was right, he did know how to throw a pretty kick-ass bachelor party. Grantaire was still a bit hungover from it by the time of the ceremony, which was one of the reasons he just barely got ready in time and made it to the building right before they started playing “Here Comes the Bride.” On top of that, half of his friends wouldn’t stop crying and telling him how proud they were—he was stopped by a pair of teary eyes at least six times on his way to the altar. Grantaire wished he could tell them that none of this was real, and that it didn’t matter anyway, it wasn’t like he would be leaving their lives once he said “I do.”  
The whole wedding was unnecessarily traditional. They had planned on doing everything just the way her family would have wanted: the ceremony would be in a church and the reception in the ballroom of a nice nearby hotel; the dress would be white; they would cut the cake together; she would do the bouquet toss; they would have their first dance to a classic ballad from the nineties; the marriage would be between a man and a woman.  
Though he knew it was all fake, Grantaire still couldn’t help but be nervous as the bride walked down the aisle. Would everyone see through their lies? Would all of this be for nothing? Jehan patted him on the back and he exchanged a worried glance with Éponine, who he had convinced his fiancée to add to her posse of bride’s maids and who did not look too happy to be wearing a hot pink mermaid dress. She nodded toward the pews to hint that he should probably be watching the woman he was about to marry on what everyone else would call the most important day of his life. The grimace the father of the bride gave him as he was giving her away did nothing to ease his nerves.  
“Who gives this woman in holy matrimony to this man?” the minister behind Grantaire said, shocking him a little as he forgot that he wasn’t the only one standing there.  
“I do,” said her father, giving her a kiss on the cheek and Grantaire another dirty look before taking his seat. Even without seeing them, he could tell that all of his friends were cringing at the amount of internalized sexism that had occurred within the first minute of his wedding ceremony; Grantaire hoped that they knew he had nothing to do with this part of the planning. The woman before him smiled, but it was more of a don’t screw this up rather than an I’m so happy to be spending the rest of my life with you kind of smile.  
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in the sight of God to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony,” the minister began his pre-vow spiel just the way Grantaire expected him to. He honestly wasn’t paying all that much attention during the rehearsal the night before. “Holy matrimony should be entered into solemnly and with reverence and honor, and it is into this holy agreement these two persons come together to be joined. If any person here can show cause why these two people should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.”  
The minister took another breath to continue, but before he could, he was cut off.  
“I object!”  
Grantaire had thought about all of the times Courfeyrac had joked about interrupting his wedding so that the two of them could get married instead. For an instant he thought it was a just Courf joking around again, but as he turned to where he knew Courfeyrac should be sitting, his eyes were caught by another face fumbling his way out of his seat and into the aisle. This was a different kind of joke, one Grantaire did not find funny at all.  
Grantaire didn’t even think he would come, but there he was, just barely having escaped the restraint of his friends and standing motionless directly in front of him. There he was, trying to ruin his fake wedding.  
“I object.”  
There he was, trying to let out their secret.  
Enjolras was not red this time, all of the color seemed to have been washed from his body. As Grantaire kept his eyes on him, an uproar commenced, like a wave crashing upon the crowd. This did not disturb Enjolras, though, he was immovable as he kept his eyes locked on the bride’s. “Young man,” the minister finally said, causing a slight hush to pass over the congregation. “I’m afraid I can’t accept your objection unless you have a valid cause why these two cannot be married.”  
Nothing could move him. Grantaire had seen it too many times before; once Enjolras had made up his mind, there was no changing it. But at the same time, he did not seem determined, like he always did, rather, he appeared scared. He stared at the bride not as if he were going to challenge her, but as if he was pleading with her. He just stood there as people shouted things Grantaire couldn’t bother to listen to at him. Grantaire knew this was it, it was all over now. Within a matter of seconds, everyone would know.  
But Enjolras said nothing. He held his ground for another moment more before he looked to Grantaire. They held each other in their glance for an instant before Enjolras was gone, taking off down the aisle and out of the royal doors. The room was silent.  
Everyone was staring at the bride aside from Grantaire’s friends. They knew. They had to know. Enjolras had to have told them and they must have all thought that he was selfish and stupid too. Grantaire felt sick, he hadn’t even said his vows yet and his fiancée probably already hated him for screwing the whole thing up. Enjolras had said nothing, but everyone must have known that something was not right.  
He hadn’t even noticed that the room was loud once again as shouting and gossiping reverberated in his ears. The woman across from him was saying something, but the words didn’t reach him. Everything was so incoherent, was this Enjolras’s intention? Anger and fear brewed inside him together, but before he could understand why, he was bounding out the doors as well, shouting back at the wedding party something along the lines of “I gotta go, I think I’ll be back,” but everything was happening all at once and he couldn’t comprehend even his own actions.  
It didn’t take Grantaire long to find Enjolras. He was pressed up against the back wall of the church, overlooking the small graveyard behind it. “Okay, what the fuck was that?!? Enjolras, you can’t just stop someone from getting married just because it conflicts with what you think is right! I can’t even believe you right now!” Enjolras kept his head held high, despite Grantaire’s onslaughts. He looked like a martyr immortalized in one of the stain glass windows that encircled the church, even with the layer of tears washing on and off of his face like the tide. “You know what, it doesn’t even matter if what I am doing is right or wrong, it’s my business and you have no right getting involved with it.”  
“Grantaire,” his voice was weak, even though his appearance suggested otherwise. “You don’t want to marry her for her money, you don’t want to marry anyone for that reason.”  
“You don’t know what I want, you know nothing of what I want and you know nothing about me.”  
“No,” Enjolras said. “I know a lot about you. I may not always act like it, but I know a lot more than you’d think. And I know a lot about her.” He paused to look at Grantaire for the second time today. Grantaire’s heart wanted to break and he didn’t know why. Enjolras didn’t deserve his pity, not right now. He had no place in his love life and he never would, but at the same time, Grantaire didn’t want him to not have a place in his life at all. “I know she doesn’t love you.”  
“So? What does that matter to you?” Enjolras looked away again, keeping his eyes no higher than the tombstones in front of them.  
“You don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t love you for the rest of your life. If you’re going to marry someone it should be someone who loves you. Love is the most important thing you can have.”  
Grantaire scoffed. “Yeah, like you know anything about that.” He regret the words the moment they slipped through his lips. Grantaire loved Enjolras. No matter what Enjolras could do, Grantaire would never want to hurt him. There was no way he possibly could, not intentionally, at least. But still, Enjolras intentionally tried to ruin the futures of two undeserving people, so Grantaire tried not to beat himself up about it too much. That didn’t work. “Enjolras, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—“  
“She doesn’t love you, Grantaire.”  
Grantaire took a deep breath, his emotions bubbled up again every time Enjolras would say that. “Yes, Enjolras. I get it,” he laughed loudly and sarcastically. “I completely understand. She doesn’t love me. And you do?”  
“I do,” Enjolras vowed solemnly.  
Grantaire continued to laugh wildly, but Enjolras remained serious. “Really? You expect me to believe that. After all you’ve done to me? You expect me to believe that after what you just did?”  
“You mean do I expect you to believe that I love you after I just publicly objected to you getting married?” His voice was soft, nearly broken. “Do you really think that I care enough about you entering a false marriage because it’s against my personal morality to stop you from doing so? Do you really think that’s the reason I just did a great job of making a complete fool of myself in there and am doing an even better job of that right now?”  
Grantaire was speechless. It all made sense now. He let a few minutes pass in order to let everything that just happened sink in. That didn’t work. Finally, he looked back at the divine being beside him. “Enjolras, why didn’t you say anything?”  
“I tried to, that night at your apartment, but I couldn’t. I let my emotions get the best of me. I didn’t want you marrying her and I had to do something about it.”  
“Well, you certainly did do _something_ about it.” This mustered what was the closest thing to a laugh he could probably get out of Enjolras. “But really, you’ve been watching too many rom-coms, people don’t actually object that often at weddings. You were lucky we even included the ‘speak now’ part.”  
“Honestly, I was never actually considering doing it until…well, until I did it, and I couldn’t just take it back.”  
Grantaire felt a few raindrops beginning to pepper his face, but he couldn’t care less. He slid down against the wall until he was sitting against the dampened concrete of a sidewalk, his companion did the same.  
Another few minutes passed in silence between the two as they both tried to understand what was happening. “Grantaire?” one finally said. “What are you going to do? Are you going to…go back in there? Are you going to…..you know…”  
“I’m not going to marry her. I can’t now.”  
“…Why not?”  
Grantaire turned to face him. “Enjolras, I don’t know if you know this or not, but I’ve kind of been in love with you from the moment I first saw you,” It was obvious, Enjolras was the only one who didn’t know. He beamed as the words poured from Grantaire’s lips. “So even though I’m not entirely sure if this is real or not, this is a pretty big deal for me. I’d never marry some girl if I knew that I had even the slightest chance with you.”  
Enjolras frowned, scooted closer, and wrapped his arms around the man’s neck. “I’m so sorry if I ever hurt you in any way over the years. I acted so stupidly around you sometimes and I hated myself for it, but I could never say what I wanted to because I didn’t think that you would say it back. I wish I would have known.”  
“You and me both,” Enjolras actually laughed this time and Grantaire could feel his warm breath against the side of his neck.  
Enjolras pulled further away, still holding onto Grantaire. “Do you think the bride would mind if I stole your kiss from her?”  
“I know I wouldn’t.” Grantaire pulled Enjolras against himself until their lips finally met. The moment captured all the words they never said. It was baptismal.  
“So,” Enjolras said when he drew away, his forehead gently pressed to Grantaire’s. “Do you want to get out of here before they start looking for the runaway groom?”  
“I do.”

**Author's Note:**

> Whether this came from my sick obsession for Say Yes To The Dress or my fascination with the most overdone wedding trope ever I do not know, but I hope you all enjoyed! 
> 
> And in case you were wondering, Grantaire's bride fell in love with a nice girl a few years later and actually got married and everything was well. 
> 
> Also, shoutout to Hannah, the actual best friend ever, for forcing me to finally write this and not making fun of my first drafts.


End file.
